Silk and Cedar
by glitch and gremlin
Summary: A foreign tension stands between Gon and Killua's friendship. Gon does not understand it. Killua will not explain it. The feel of content. The scent of comfort. [KilluaGon, and shameless amount of fluff. Guest appearances: Hisoka, Illumi]
1. Embarrassing

**Disclaimer:** I'm broke. Enough said.

**Pairing:** _Killua/Gon_

**Setting:** They're older, still together as friends, and are Hunters. Simple and easy.

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**Silk and Cedar**

_Part One: Embarrassing_

Even though we've traveled together for years, this was the _first _time you ever asked me to cut your hair. And I was surprised, _really _surprised, because you_ always_ insisted on doing it yourself—but then you handed me the scissors and sat yourself right on the stool, waiting impatiently and expectantly. This might sound a little strange, but I was so..._delighted_...I was so, you know,_ happy_!

Your hair is soft and plush to the touch. It feels like...like—what was that kind of fabric you said you loved?—oh! Yeah! Silk. Your hair feels like silk. I've slept with silk bedcovers before; the sheets were cool, smooth, and rich, just like water—but I still prefer the silver silk of your hair against my cheek whenever I get to hug you (you're still taller than me, but only by an inch or two! ...or maybe three...).

You know...I would like to touch your hair more often, hug you more often, share a bed with you more often—but you always say "no!" for some reason. You always say the same thing:

"_Wha—! Gon! N-no! I—you—no!—we can't! It's—it's embarrassing, you idiot!" _

You're so weird sometimes, Killua. We're best friends, aren't we? What's wrong then? What's so embarrassing? Lately, you've been trying to...to keep your distance from me or something. You're not obvious about it, but I can still tell. You don't want to get close to me and I don't know why. Every time I try to close the gap between us, you just sputter the same thing and step away. Away from me. I'm sorry if I embarrass you that badly, but...but it's just that whenever I'm with you—beside you, near you, by you—I feel stronger. Happier, you know? Well...maybe_ I'm_ the one that's so weird...maybe that's how it really is, ne?

...but...don't you feel the same comfort as I do...?

_-o-o-o-_

"Oi. Gon."

My hands falter, the silver scissors held between my fingers comes to a clipped halt. I quickly blink away my thoughts because I feel he has a way of reading my mind. Standing behind his seated figure and facing the mirror, I look at his reflection...and find him staring back at my own reflection. My mind's still jumbled with worries and questions but I manage a, "Huh?"

He regards me with that _okay-what's-wrong-you-better-tell-me-now _expression on his face—the one with his left eyebrow arched high and lips quirked in a questioning frown—and asks, "You've been really quiet, Gon...are you okay? What's wrong?"

I smile at him, grateful for his concern, but I don't answer him. I really don't know what to say...or what to ask him...

And so he continues. "Are you upset because of that dead squirrel we saw today?"

It's not funny (that poor squirrel, she was still so young, rest her soul) but Killua...he...he's so blunt! He's as tactless as a kid, even though he always claims to be more mature than I am! He can't really express his concern, umm, _properly _but I know he's actually worried about me.

He speaks in that careless, yet reassuring tone of his. "Look, Gon—I'm sure it had a quick and painless death, okay? I bet that squirrel never even saw the car coming—"

"Killua!"

"What! It's true. The way its body was positioned on the road—"

I swap him upside the head to discontinue his morbid explanation. His soft hair bristles between and around my fingers as I do so. He gets the hint and promptly closes his eyes (and his mouth), crossing his arms loosely across his stomach. He's wearing that _I'm-not-going-to-say-but-you-know-its-true! _expression on his face.

I shake my head and cast my attention on his hair again. I am afraid of making any mistakes so I take my time to snip, clip, brush, and comb his hair. The severed strands fall around his shoulders and to the ground like wisps of silver confetti. His shoulders and face soon relax into a peaceful, still manner. I pause for a moment and stare at his reflection...Mito-san said that Killua would grow up to be a "very good-looking gentleman." She was right—and she was wrong. He _was_ very good-looking, but _not_ very much a gentleman. I'm glad his eyes are closed...because if he saw me smiling like how I am right now, he'd probably say:

"_You're such a dork, Gon!" _

You know, he does that to me a lot—makes me smile for no reason. Mito-san once told me that with Killua by my side she never seen me happier. And she was right. Killua really makes me feel so...you know, happy, comfortable, _lucky. _I am so fortunate to have met Killua, to have him as my best friend—and I told him exactly that, once, when we were on Greed Island...and then in response, he told me not to say such 'embarrassing things.'

We were just kids then, but I guess some parts of us haven't changed much...

But it's the truth. I'm so grateful to Killua—I want to tell him of my appreciation, show him my gratitude, and express my thanks. But I can't give him much...I can't give him the silk fabrics he likes and I refuse to buy him any chocolate (he always gets _more than enough_). I can't give him anything...except my words and actions.

And no matter how embarrassing my words or actions may be...it's the only way I can express myself. It's the only way he'll know how much I value his company, his friendship, his loyalty—how much I value _him. _

So...I'll just have to keep on embarrassing him...

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**E.n.d. o.f. P.a.r.t. O.n.e.**

This is actually my first chaptered story! I'm usually a one-shot writer because I'm so damn lazy...but look at this! Surprise, surprise! Well, I hope you liked this segment of Gon's POV. I'm not sure if he's in-character enough...he was really hard for me. I'm more of the angsty type—and speaking of which, KILLUA IS NEXT IN LINE :spots a silver head scamper out the room: ...but well, not everyone is looking forward to it...

So...whad'dya think? Good, bad? Tell me, tell me! Please critique me! Shame me, praise me, make me cry, make me squeal—I don't care! Just please, pretty please, give me your input! Thanks for reading, folks!


	2. Closed Doors and Deadbolt Locks

**Disclaimer:** None whatsoever.

**Notes:** Killua's POV

_"Flashback Dialogue"_ _Thoughts_ "Present Dialogue"

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**Silk and Cedar**

_Part Two: Closed Doors and Deadbolt Locks_

Being the idiot you are, I know the simplest things make you excited. Even after all these years, even after all you've been through—the Hunter Exam, the Genei Ryodan, Greed Island, the Nacre Trials—you still find pleasure in the smallest of things...

_"Wahh! Look at that!" _your voice was as clear and crisp as the country air._ "It's a three-legged race! Ne, ne, we can do that! That game's all about teamwork—I KNOW that we'll win for sure, Killua!" _

And being the idiot you are, I know you don't remember that time. But...I remember this memory all too clearly: as we were scouting the British Isles, we found a small nameless village nestled in the woods...even though we were on a mission to find an "elfin fox" for our client, you still insisted that we take a break and participate in the village's festival games—specifically the three-legged race.

After you dragged me to the village with sheer force, I decided to play with you (you can be so damn stubborn sometimes)...I felt pretty stupid and really uncomfortable (I swear you try to find new ways to embarrass me) because the only people that participated in that game were...lovers. But, of course, you didn't notice.

"_Gon! Wait!"_ your quick, deft hands tied my left leg to your right leg with a length of red rope. _"We shouldn't play in this game, you idiot!"_

"_Huh? Why not?"_ you paused and looked at me curiously.

"_Because—because it's a waste of time!" _I shifted a bit under his still questioning gaze as he waited for me to continue explaining._ "...and these people...they're all—you know—lovers!"_ I whispered the last word harshly, trying to force the word through his thick skull.

"_Oh really? Huh..." _you casually looked around at our opponents. _"Well, that's nice," _then you knotted the tie, making sure it wasn't too loose or too tight. _"I noticed that they're all a little older than us, too! Now we won't feel guilty when we beat them!" _you grinned and winked with confidence.

I stared at you tiredly, shook my head, and rolled my eyes. You just didn't get it, which really was no surprise. You just didn't understand why I felt so uncomfortable. Hell, I didn't even know what was bothering me! Until...

"_Yatta! Killua! We won!"_

"_Of course."_

I smirked easily, satisfied at how well we ran and worked together despite the awkward handicap. Somehow the three-legged race turned into a fight to the death (yeah, don't ask) between us and some of the contestants as flashes of Nen clashed about. But in the end, we won anyway (with a few scratches, burns, and bruises). Oddly, I didn't care about winning anyway. For some reason, simple games have always been unusually fun whenever you were beside me.

You cheered again, congratulated me with a smile and then...you practically tackled me, your arms slipping under my own arms, pulling me into a tight embrace. It wasn't the first time that you touched me or hugged me. In fact, you hugged me plenty of times before, even shared a bed and took a bath with me on many occasions—but in that instant, that moment, things changed...things felt..._different_...

"_Idiot—!"_ I exclaimed as I stumbled back, wrapping my arms around you to prevent us from falling off balance. Your arms locked around my body and my arms locked around your shoulders—then all my senses suddenly flared. My eyesight and hearing became abnormally acute (an assassin's adrenaline rush is much more effective than that of a normal person), my nails lengthened instinctively, and my muscles became rigid in defense.

You didn't notice, Gon...but you were making me panic, triggering my adrenaline to rush furiously, causing all my senses to sharpen painfully. The gentle warmth of your body felt like a furnace against my skin, your beating heart was pounding repeatedly against my ribs—cracking them, breaking them—and your joyful laughter was a piercing, tearing echo to my ears. The overwhelmed senses, the physical pain, it was almost too much for me, it absolute Hell to me—but I wanted, I _needed _to stay there...I didn't want to leave, not ever...

...and it was then that I knew. I just knew.

Heh. But you don't remember any of that, do you? I know you don't. Because you're such...an idiot...

_-o-o-o-_

"Oh! Gomen! Did I hurt you, Killua?"

Before opening my eyes, I quickly file away my thoughts. Gon has this freakish ability to figure out what I'm thinking sometimes (and that says a lot, considering I'm a trained professional). My blank eyes regard him in response. "...what?"

"I scratched you with the comb," I blink, feeling a dull sting on my left ear. I didn't even notice it until he told me. "Sorry, I kinda spaced out...does it hurt, Killua?" he runs his cool fingertips, carefully and slowly, across the shell of my ear.

My shoulders tense from the sudden sensation. I feel shivers zip down my spine from the mere touch. I angle my head slightly, shifting away from his hand. I clear my throat as noiselessly as possible, adjusting my voice to sound irritable. "Yeah, yeah, don't worry. I hardly felt it."

"Okay," his reflection smiles at me, "that's good. I'm almost done, so just sit tight for a while longer."

_Take your_ _time._ I indulge my senses in the soft caresses and brushes of his hands. I vaguely hear the clip, snip, and snap of the scissors...but I can only concentrate on the slight tugs and pulls on my hair, the slight brushes on my scalp, the cool breath ghosting on my neck and shoulders.

Yeah. Fine. I admit it. I could have cut my hair by myself...but...

"Okay, I'm done!"

_Already...? Damn._ "Well, it's about time. You took forever!"

Gon scowls, or rather tries to scowl. His eyes are too warm, too kind for that sort of expression. It looks more like he's pouting. "I did not! Anyway, you should be glad I didn't rush and make any mistakes!" he hesitates, his eyes concerned. "Um...I didn't make any mistakes, right? What do you think?"

He is so damn..._adorable_ (I can't believe I'm actually using that word). I shift my gaze from his reflection to my own, running my hand through my cleanly trimmed hair. I could still feel the lingering traces of his touch. And then I pat my ears, smirking playfully at him. "Well, my ears are still there, surprisingly. Guess you're not as bad with the scissors as I thought, Gon."

Gon scowled (pouted, really) again. "Killua!"

"Okay, okay, you did good! My hair never looked better in my _whole entire life_!" I arch my eyebrow at him sarcastically. "There. Was that what you wanted to hear?"

His scowl-pout disappears in a blink, a grin lighting his face. "Yep! See? Was it that hard to say?" With practiced ease, I roll my eyes in response. Still smiling, Gon turns away, sets the scissors down on the bedside table, and grabs a folded towel. "Let's go to the hot springs, Killua! I've been waiting all day for it! Now it should be empty, ne?"

Oh, god, as much as I wanted to go with him... "No, s'alright. I want to go to sleep now."

"...oh," his smile falters, his eyebrows slant with disappointed confusion. "...already?"

"Yeah, it's been a long day," I stand up and go for my travel bag on the floor. I can feel him staring at my back. Did he know...? No way. I'm too good of an actor, he _can't_ see through me so easily...

"...okay. I guess I'll see you in the morning..."

"Yeah," I shuffle through my bag purposefully, picking out a worn shirt.

"G'night then," he opened the door. "Sleep well."

_Sorry... _"Mm."

He doesn't move, as if waiting for me to change my mind...then I hear the door close and I follow his footsteps till they echo out of my earshot. Letting out a heavy sigh, I stuff my shirt back into my bag with surprising ferocity. Gon...hot springs...I shake my head, chasing away images that I put off-limits. I close my eyes, blanking my thoughts as best as I could. It's been getting harder and harder to keep my damned feelings shut and locked away.

I head over to the fireplace and toss in a few logs (I know Gon can't sleep very well with a cold draft in the room...of course, he's too damn stubborn to admit it). A silver-blue thread of electricity leaves my fingers and strikes a log. Sparks and embers of a promising fire slowly spread among the pile of wood. A faint fragrance reaches my nose from the fireplace.

Cedar.

I toss in another log. I like this scent a lot. It's natural, warm, crisp, and subtle. It...reminds me of him. I really don't know why, it just doesn't make sense. After all, Gon _doesn't have_ a scent and I don't either—at least, that's what I observed. Since I am—_was_—a professional assassin, my body doesn't have a scent. Sweat, blood, it doesn't matter—I was trained to blend in with my surroundings completely. Gon is the same, yet I don't know how his body adapted that skill...

...yet he still smells of cedar to me.

Hm...well, I have an idea why but it may be a misperception...when we were on the British Isles, when he hugged me, when our bodies were drawn close together, and when my senses were crested—my enhanced sense of smell picked up scents from miles around me: watercress, burdock, oat-grass, nightshade, hemlock, birches, maples, sycamores, marigolds, wild basil, juniper...yet the closest scent that reached my nose, that drew my attention, was the warm fragrance of cedar wood.

...now that I think about it, I don't even know if there were cedar trees in that area. Maybe I just imagined it. I would ask Gon, but...it's not as if he would remember anyway.

After all, he didn't have the same experience I had that day...he didn't...he _doesn't_ feel the same way toward me.

**E.n.d. o.f. P.a.r.t. T.w.o.**

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I know, I know, it's been MONTHS since I updated. I had my wisdom teeth pulled and—ohmyfreakingod—it hurt like HELL. Anyway—so, what did you think? Was Killua in-character? Is the story confusing at all? Please criticize to your hearts' content! And THANK YOU for all those reviews, guys! They really helped me, you have no idea! 

**Vicadin-Tea:** Thanks! Oblivious!Gon is the only Gon I can do...heheh!

**C:** Cute, fluffy—yep, that's what I'm striving for!

**Mizu:** I get this feeling of sadistic pleasure when I embarrass Killua. It's so very fun! Thanks for the comment, I'll try to keep adding the fandom here!

**Random Obsessed Person: **Sorry for making you wait for...a couple months, but your review really gave me encouragement! I'm glad you liked my other stories! Thank you!

**Amasaki Reyoko:** Hee hee, thanks! I'm glad you could empathize with Gon!

**Am1-13th:** Thanks for patiently waiting! I'm a SLOW writer, so your patience is appreciated!

**Youkoforever:** Sorry for the wait, I didn't exactly hurry, but the chapter made it! thanks!

**Klappy:** I hope I didn't disappoint you with my Killua POV chapter. Thank you for the kind words!

**Naru Asakura:** I will continue to do my best to embarrass Killua:salutes:

**kazapochi: **Yeah, my writing style tends to lean more on the maudlin, sappy side...I'm trying to go away from that, but its such a bad habit! ; thank you for your criticism! If you have any suggestions to improve my style, please share them with me!

**Fuji Fox:** :blushes: Me? Wonderful:glomps: thank you!

**Allusho:** Yay! I'm glad you could empathize with Gon! I was really trying to go for that. I hope you're not disappointed with my Killua POV!

**Shinobi KazeKage:** Thanks for the advice! I try to give Gon a "naïve" tone of voice with a lot of facial descriptions, like how a kid would be. Eh, but I still suck at writing Gon!

**kurokioku:** Well, I updated (finally)!

**azamiko: **Hehe, thanks! I'm glad you thought so, too!

**FireDemon17:** Thanks for the encouragement! I'm glad you like my writing style! But I'm still such an amateur!

**Meetha:** Thanks! Hope you liked Killua's part!

**kyria valkyrie:** Eeee! I'm happy you loved this story! You were my last reviewer, so... :glomps you: ...thank you!


	3. Ink and Ice

**Notes:** Normal, third-person narration.

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**Silk and Cedar**

_Part Three: Ink and Ice_

_Wow!_

Upon reaching the small clearing just behind the hotel resort, Gon surveyed the peaceful area in awe. The dark rocks that encased the hot springs created the illusion of black oil, tall walls of bamboo added life to the still atmosphere, moonlight peered through the long leaves, and lazy fireflies drifted among the steam.

Gon took a quick glance around, spotting only a few other men basking in the liquid heat. He shrugged off his robe, set it aside upon a nearby rock, and slowly eased himself into the water. He closed his eyes, sighing with relief and delight.

_Ahh, it's the perfect temperature! It's not as hot as I thought it would be. Killua would have— _

He quickly halted his thought process with a frown. Gon was hoping that relaxation would come to him easily, but his stubborn mind continued to stray and dwell on many thoughts and worries—most of them concerning a certain silver-haired enigma.

Gon leaned against the stone edge, tilting his head back to gaze at the crescent moon. A deep look settled in his dark brown eyes. For months now, a certain tension wedged itself between himself and Killua. This tension—which Gon could not yet fully explain or understand—was causing a foreign gap in their friendship. Gon wasn't one to point fingers, but he was certain that the problem laid solely with Killua. His friend has always been a puzzle of emotions; sometimes, it was hard to read and understand him (but it was one of the qualities that Gon liked best about Killua, even though it could be rather frustrating and inconvenient at times). But Killua became more distant and reticent recently, which only caused the tension to worsen.

Gon's eyes closed in resignation, sinking further into the spring. _...maa, maa...when he's ready he'll come and tell me. _

Gon figured that patience was not only a virtue, but a necessity as well. He had long since accepted the fact that Killua was a very independent individual. The ex-assassin always preferred to deal with his own emotions and problems by himself _before_ expressing or telling them to others. Well, that just didn't make sense to Gon, but he respected Killua's privacy nonetheless. But still...

_...why won't he just tell me what's wrong? _

He sighed again. He just couldn't stop thinking. Finding it useless to relax, he decided to leave. As he stood up, the hot water cascaded off his body and immediately cooled when exposed to the midnight air. Gon reached out to grab his robe and—

"Huh?" Gon blinked, puzzled, as his hand grabbed empty space.

His robe. It was gone.

_Oh no._

Gon looked around the vacant rock, hoping it just slipped off to the side. He became worried when he still couldn't find it—particularly because he didn't like the idea of walking back into the hotel wearing nothing but a rather small white towel around his waist (some giggling receptionists kept winking at him earlier today. Killua said something scary about how they were going to jump on Gon and do god-knows-what to him if he wasn't careful). His skin began to cool quickly, causing him to shiver.

_I'm sure I put it here...but where—?_

Suddenly, a spread of warm cloth covered his bare skin. It took Gon a moment to realize that a dry robe was placed on his shoulders from behind by long fingers and warm palms.

Gon immediately spun around, completely caught off guard. He expected to see Killua with that mischievous grin on his face (the silver-haired sneak always managed to pull pranks on him, no matter how alert he was).

But instead—Gon was greeted with dark violet hair, pale lavender eyes, and a sly smirk. And that unmistakable voice, which accompanied that frightfully familiar face.

"Long time no see, Gon."

His blood ran cold. "...Hisoka..."

-o—o—o-

Sleep wasn't coming to him easily, but Killua wasn't the type to toss and turn. He laid still in his bed, listlessly staring at the crackling fire. The comforting fragrance of cedar pervaded the room, yet Killua found it all the more difficult to sleep. The scent was too much like Gon. And after all, _he--_that harmless, clueless idiot--was the source of all his problems; the object of his affection.

Killua often wondered if his feelings were...natural. Does everyone, who has a best friend, go through this sort of dilemma as well? Because Killua never wanted to get himself involved in this sort of situation. He wished there had been some way to avoid this mess.

But gradually, maybe over months or years, he just began to notice more...things about his black-haired companion. Just small, harmless details: the way Gon's spiky hair sloppily drooped when wet, making him look pitifully adorable; the way the sunlight highlighted his earthy brown eyes to the color of yellow-topaz; the way his skin looked as smooth and rich as melted chocolate. His warm smiles, his contagious laughter, his lively spirit—Killua was always drawn to those qualities Gon possessed.

But those small details and those platonic feelings seemed to snowball into an affection that went beyond friendship. And that strange affection involved the desire to touch him, hold him, kiss him...

_Why him? _Killua groaned as if in pain. He rolled on his back and mercilessly smothered his face with a pillow.

Killua didn't deal with denial like most other people did. He didn't doubt his reason or think himself crazy. He simply accepted the fact that—yeah, okay, fine—he was attracted to his best friend in _that _way. He knew that such feelings were inevitable and unexplainable and, therefore, damned hard to get rid of (he'd seen enough movies to know these things). Killua was too smart to deal with denial—so he instead decided to shove his accepted feelings elsewhere, lock them away, and throw away the key.

Yeah...not exactly the most effective solution...

But that way, _no one _would ever know. And Killua deduced that his affection for Gon wouldn't be returned and, therefore, his unrequited feelings would...just fade away. Someday, right? And if these damned feelings haunted Killua till he was dead and buried, it was a hopeless case anyway. Because someday, Gon will surely meet some nice, sweet, pretty girl. Someone with a warm, ready smile. Someone that liked fishing and didn't mind holding those ugly fish. Someone who loved the ocean. Someone who _better _take care of Gon. Someone...that wasn't going to be him.

The silver-haired ex-assassin felt his stomach sink. His eyes darkened to a melancholy shade of deepest green.

A light _knock-knock_ing made Killua jolt from his wretched thoughts. Removing the pillow from his face, he sat up in his bed, puzzled. He stared at the door with a thoughtful gaze. It was too late for room service. And Gon didn't knock like that. That knocking was too light, too slow—definitely not Gon's enthusiastic rapping that made the walls tremble. Killua slid his legs over the side of his bed. The only person visiting this late at night...would be a stranger. Probably a dangerous one, too. It wouldn't be the first time someone attacked him like this, pretending to be a hotel maid or concierge.

_A Blacklist Hunter... _Killua concluded. He rolled eyes, slumped his shoulders, and let out a weary sigh. He really wasn't in the mood for Bounty or Blacklist hunters tonight. He just wanted to lie in bed and sulk. Was that really too much to ask for?

The soft knocking persisted.

Apparently, yes it was. Killua irritably ran his hand through his hair, narrowing his eyes vengefully at the door. _Better get rid of him before Gon comes back._ He stood up from the bed, ready to answer the door, give his would-be assailant a good beating, and toss him out the window, but—

"Killua?"

A soft, familiar voice reached beyond the door. The voice was muffled and low, barely audible because of the distance and barrier—but Killua knew who it was. He felt it. He slowly sat back down on the bed again, eyes wide.

_No. No, no, no, no, no._

"Killua, are you there?"

Illumi. It was Illumi.

Killua felt his heartbeat steadily increase to an uncomfortable pace. His body felt heavy and numb, as if ill with fever. His spirit seemed detached, as if it had fled from his body in fear. He sat there motionless for a moment before slowly, almost obediently, crossing the room to open the door. His pale hand unlocked and twisted the brass doorknob.

-o—o—o-

Surprise struck Gon so hard that all he could do was stare at the man before him. He was rendered completely motionless and speechless. If Gon had the sense, he would have jumped back to put more distance between himself and one of the most bloodthirsty, twisted men he had ever encountered in his life.

Hisoka stared back, the smirk never leaving his face. He was enjoying this moment, but—gathering from Gon's dumbfounded expression—Hisoka decided not to wait for the younger man to initiate the conversation. "Tsk, tsk...still as naïve as ever, aren't you? You should really look after your belongings, Gon."

Gon swallowed as he studied Hisoka carefully. There were no drawings of a teardrop or heart on Hisoka's pale and immaculate face. His hair had been colored to a dark violet this time and it wasn't spiked up; instead it was loose and the ends curled around his face and neck. The only thing that changed about him was his hair color and style; it was as if he hadn't aged at all. His eyes, the color of lavender ice, still gleamed with the same predator intent that Gon recognized all too well.

"W-what are you doing here?" Gon asked the first, albeit impolite, question that could coherently form itself in his numbed brain.

Hisoka's smile widened. The memory Hisoka held of Gon's childish voice was immediately tossed away as he soaked in this older voice—it was tenor, neither too deep nor high, just the perfect pitch for someone like Gon. There was a mature sweetness to Gon's voice that Hisoka already found absolutely tempting.

"I'm not stalking you, if that's what you're really asking. This encounter is purely coincidence," Hisoka replied smoothly. Gon looked doubtful, but Hisoka continued on. "My, my...how you've grown. You're no longer the little boy I remember." His lavender eyes studied Gon's face for a moment longer before...slowly...traveling...downward...

Suddenly aware of his position, Gon quickly closed his robe, knotting the slip tightly around his waist. He coughed, a dust of pink crossed his face. "Yeah, um...it's, um, been a while since we last saw each other."

"Yes, it's been far too long, hasn't it?"

_Not really_. Gon decided it was best to keep his thoughts to himself. "S-so—what have you been doing lately?"

"Oh, nothing much," Hisoka replied absently, mysteriously. "Just trying to keep myself entertained."

Gon tried to maintain eye contact with Hisoka, but found it rather...difficult. Especially since Hisoka's eyes kept roaming up, down, over, and across his body. Gon knew that he was stronger, much stronger, than the last time he had fought Hisoka when he was just a kid...yet he still felt vulnerable and awkwardly insecure. Perhaps he just needed a good set of clothes and not just a flimsy robe.

Gon frowned, crossing his arms across his chest self-consciously. "Well—anyway, I have to go now because...um...because, yeah."

Gon mentally winced. His honest nature and inability to lie was admirable, yet Killua had warned him that it would be an inconvenience someday. And today was that day.

"Well, it is rather late," Hisoka agreed lightly. He decided to let his boy-toy go for now. He smiled with amusement as he watched Gon slowly edge away. "I'd like to catch up with you more. There's so much to talk about, ne? There's a festival tomorrow. Lots of people, nothing formal. We'll have a little date, hm?" Hisoka winked.

Gon's eyebrows slanted uneasily. "Uh...I don't know about that—"

"Ah, that's great. I'll see you tomorrow then. Don't worry, I'll find you. And you'll bring Killua, won't you? I'm sure he's all grown up so I just can't wait to see him," Hisoka's smile grew and so did Gon's uneasiness. "And I'm sure Illumi will want to spend more time with him, too. Don't you agree, Gon?"

The anxiety Gon felt was suddenly swept away with surprise. And dread.

Black hair that flickered like thick shadows. Black eyes that were totally, inhumanely unreadable. Killua's elder brother. Gon was afraid of him. Not because Illumi was a dangerous opponent—no, that fact didn't scare him at all—but he was afraid because Illumi had the rare ability to string up Killua's sense and emotions like that of a marionette.

_Killua! No!_

Hisoka watched Gon dash back to the hotel, his footsteps quick and light. _Mm, how delicious you must be now..._ Just as a fruit becomes sweet when ripe, he could hear such change in Gon's voice and see the smooth finish of his body. Hisoka wondered what his aura must taste like now.

His joker's smirk loosened into a small smile that was even more cryptic and unreadable. His lavender eyes narrowed with silent glee, the predator intent gleaming bright and intense.

-o—o—o-

The two brothers stared at each other for a long moment before one finally made a move.

When Illumi's hand rested on his younger brother's cheek, Killua reflexively held his breath. He quickly lowered his emerald eyes. He couldn't gather the courage to even maintain steady eye contact, yet Illumi didn't seem to notice or care. The dark-haired assassin made a thoughtful murmur, yet Killua's eyes remained averted to the side. He didn't know why. He couldn't explain this dark, dense feeling—guilt? fear? shame?—that rendered him helpless in Illumi's presence.

"You grew taller than I expected. You look healthy. That's good." Illumi spoke warm words, yet his voice remained cool and sterile. Though his hand on Killua's cheek seemed to be a gesture of brotherly affection, it did not seem like it. It was more like a doctor's professional touch.

Illumi tilted his head slightly, closely observing his silver-haired brother. Killua was just a mere inch or so shorter than himself—and he'd probably grow a little taller before he reached his twenties, too. The baby fat that once adorned Killua's face had thinned; his cheekbones and jawbone were more prominent, giving him a sharp look of maturity. He was no longer childishly cute, but now gentlemanly attractive. He really did look so much more grown up.

"Saa, it's been a while since I last saw you, hasn't it."

"Yeah..." Killua swallowed hard, loosening his dry throat. "Come inside," he turned away, walking back into the room. Truthfully, he didn't want Illumi to set one foot in the room, but Killua needed an excuse to put some more distance between them.

"I know it's late. I had some business to attend to before I could find you. Were you busy with something?" Illumi asked as he closed the door behind him.

Killua flinched when the door clicked into place. Reflexively searching for escape, his eyes immediately targeted the balcony window. _It's not that far of a jump... _Killua mentally hit himself, closing his eyes tightly. _No. I shouldn't have to run anymore._

Illumi glanced around the room with practiced, swift efficiency. Two travel bags. Well-worn travel boots beside the entrance—one black pair, one brown pair—dark, almost black, mud coated on the heels—most likely traveled by foot from a mountaneous or volcanic region. One towel missing from the table. Scissors on the vanity, strands of clipped hair—silver—remaining on the blades.

Killua knew what his brother was doing, but he appreciated the moment of silence. He needed to compose himself.

_Calm down...if I overreact in any way, it just proves I haven't gotten over this. And I'm stronger, I know I am! _Killua's fingers loosely curled into a fist. _...but could I take him? _He turned around, finding Illumi's gaze already on him. Killua blinked and had to look down at the buttons on Illumi's white shirt for a moment. "What do you want?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you here?"

"I had no intention of seeking you out. I saw Gon Freecs's name in the hotel registry and I assumed you were still with him. Finding you in this country, in this hotel, it was by coincidence. I have no business with you. I simply wanted to see how you were doing," Illumi responded evenly.

Killua relaxed and raised his eyes, settling his uncertain gaze on Illumi's pale countenance. His elder brother looked different with his hair bound in a loose braid and dressed in simple, civilian clothing. His inky-black eyes were the same though—totally void of emotion. Killua pursed his lips together, steeling himself to ask the next question:

"...aren't you going to tell me to go back?"

Illumi lowered his inky eyes to the floor. "Hm...I thought about it. Even though it's been about six years since you last visited home, no I will not. Mother worries about you; she complains often and requests for your retrieval. But Father hasn't requested your presence."

Killua narrowed his eyes, wondering what ulterior agenda his brother or father were planning for him.

"Why haven't you returned yet, Killua?" Illumi asked, his tone neither accusing nor sorrowful. It sounded like simple curiosity, but Killua knew Illumi well enough to know that there was some kind of emotion running beneath that expressionless mask.

Killua averted his eyes. His jaw tensed. The sickening, dark feeling returned to his stomach again, this time stronger. "I've been busy. Gon and I...we've been busy with a lot of things."

There was a thick silence. And for a second, Killua wondered if he had said something offensive or gave an inexcusable reason, but Illumi soon spoke soft, direct words: "You're stronger. I haven't felt your aura yet, but I can tell by looking at you."

Killua blinked and regarded Illumi with wide eyes. A nostalgic flutter of pride beat within him. It was just a few simple, flat words, but he hadn't received a compliment from Illumi since...since such a long time ago. The soft warmth he felt made him relax. Killua smiled slightly, uncertainly, almost humbly.

But it was true. Since his body had matured, his bones and ligaments hardened, providing him more strength and stability. His control over his _hatsu_ was apparent; he could call forth his electricity within a split second, manipulate it like thin ribbons or thick bands of rope. In addition, his yo-yos—which he had mastered and even created his own combat style—allowed him long reach and distance.

Illumi continued. "But you could have been stronger if you came back to us. I do not know why you still think so highly of him, but he cannot teach you what we could have taught you, Killua. You must admit that."

Killua's small smile slipped. He felt the warm feeling vanish like a fleeing bird. _...what?_ He blinked, as if surprised, and quickly replayed Illumi's words a few times over...and slowly, thickly, a swell of indignation made his blood run hot. His eyes narrowed, but he remained silent.

"There are things that only you can do. Your full potential has yet to be fully developed. He has not and cannot help you. I'm sure you already realized that. He's only a hindrance," Illumi finished, waiting patiently for a response. He watched Killua's silent, unreadable face carefully.

Killua clenched his teeth together, his eyes narrowed further, yet he continued to remain eerily silent._ That's true. Gon doesn't know the first thing about being an assassin. He can't help me. I knew that already. But he taught and shown and given me other things...and you—or anyone—could not have done the same._

"Killua," Illumi took a step forward, as if to present his case more persuasively, "you can still come back. You—"

"I'm_ fine _just the way I am right now," the sharp words he spoke were beyond his control. It even took Killua a moment to realize he said anything. He almost regretted speaking against Illumi in such a manner, but with that swell of indignation came reckless, impulsive courage. "I don't regret what I did or how I'm spending my time. There's _nothing_ you can say that'll make me go back."

Illumi tilted his head slightly as he observed Killua's reaction: his hardened olive-green eyes, the sharp inflection of his voice, his unwavering manner. He rarely witnessed such a...level of defiance from his younger brother. It was almost uncharacteristic. "Killua—"

Suddenly, the doorknob snapped awake and the door whooshed open. Illumi turned halfway, silver pins already poised between his fingers. Killua, too, shifted his body into an offensive stance, one hand raised—but his eyes widened when his gaze fell upon the sudden intrusion.

Gon stood rigidly at the threshold, still clutching the doorknob. He was breathing hard as if he had sprinted a mile and his eyes were fixed unblinkingly upon Illumi. He would have looked intimidating with his hard-set glare and threatening stance, if he wasn't dressed in an oversized robe that was on the verge of slipping off one shoulder. He looked like a little kid wearing his mother's robe.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Killua felt laughter bubble at the base of his throat and threaten to flood the silence. He swallowed thickly and quickly bit his tongue. It took a considerable amount of willpower not to point and laugh.

Illumi regarded the interruption with a cool stare, slipping his pins back into his white sleeves. "Oh. Gon. Hello."

Gon continued to stare at the elegant, long-haired assassin; his lips were tightened and shoulders were tensed, but he managed to greet Illumi with a polite nod of his head. He didn't really know how to react to the assassin's presence. After all, even though Killua feared his brother, Killua still held respect for him. Gon wasn't selfish enough to ignore that.

Gon slowly withdrew his eagle-sharp attention from Illumi...and his earthy brown eyes visibly softened when they settled on his silver-haired friend that was standing further away.

Killua stared back, taking in the expression on Gon's face...and he felt the dark weight inside him lift a bit. He could tell Gon—who really had the most expressive eyes—was severely worried about him. And that touched him. Warmed his soul. The corner of his pale lips curved upwards in a slight smile.

When Gon saw Killua's silent response, his shoulders relaxed and he released the doorknob from his death-grip. _He's okay... _

Illumi looked between the two with a discreet sideways glance. He straightened himself, gaining their full attention by the subtle action. "It's late. I'll return to my own room now," he turned halfway and regarded Killua. "I have more business to see to, but I'll be finished by tomorrow afternoon. Perhaps we could talk more before I leave this city, Killua."

Killua nodded reluctantly. It wasn't as if he had a choice anyway. Illumi's tone, no matter how expressionless it sounded, did not give the option of rejection. Illumi turned and walked away. Gon stepped to the side and he caught the assassin giving him a brief glance from the corner of his eyes. Gon watched Illumi walk down the hall and disappear behind a corner, as quiet as his trailing shadow. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and went back inside the room, quietly closing the door.

_Illumi...he didn't do it..._ Killua's eyes were downcast, already deep with solemn thoughts. Usually, Illumi would raise his nen—just a bit—to intimidate Killua, to remind him who was stronger, who was to be followed. It was a practiced method that was used when he trained under his brother and father. But this time...

Killua's head immediately snapped up when he felt firm, warm hands grasp his shoulders. Gon was staring up at him, his brown eyes wide and warm with uninhibited concern. He looked closely and noticed Killua looked unnaturally pale. "Are you okay? What did he say? He didn't—"

Killua quickly gathered his composure and smiled carelessly. It was a familiar smirk that he knew would calm Gon's nerves. "Stop overreacting, will you? You're worrying about nothing! He just wanted to see how I was doing—make sure I'm growing right for my age, eating my vegetables, you know, small stuff."

Gon reluctantly released his hold on Killua's shoulders. He looked more at ease, but his eyes and frown spoke of lingering concern. "Oh...okay," he could tell that Killua wasn't completely telling the truth. Gon opened his mouth to say more, but hesitated. He closed his mouth with a slight frown.

"What is it?" Killua asked. Gon was too easy to read.

"Um...he..." Gon paused, the volume of his voice quieted. His eyes narrowed slightly, either out of fear or uncertainty. Killua blinked, trying to read the mixed emotions. Gon averted his gaze to the side briefly. "...he didn't ask you to go back...did he?"

Realization settled in green eyes. _Ah. _Killua's expression softened. He felt the urge to touch Gon's cheek, to physically ease the worry that was expressed so freely, so adorably—but Killua carefully slipped his hands into the pockets of his pajamas. _No. I can't._

"Don't worry about that, all right?"

Gon hesitated, but looked back at him and nodded with a smile. "...m'kay."

"Heh. I swear, you worry about the smallest things. You're such a dork," Killua rolled his eyes. He was about to turn away and flop back into bed, but a slight scent caught his attention.

It was...a strange smell. It was light and opaque; something intangible like morning mist, but potent like smoke. It was pleasant, almost mysterious in a way—but he didn't like it. It wasn't a familiar scent. After a moment, Killua realized the scent came from...Gon. He stared at his black-haired friend quizzically, and Gon—having noticed Killua's sudden silence and strange behavior—stared back with question. "What is it?"

"What's that..." Killua leaned forward slightly, as if to follow the invisible trail of the scent, and his eyes drifted to Gon's robe. "...smell?"

Gon blinked and looked down at himself. His eyes widened. "Oh! This robe—its Hisoka's." He raised his arms, the sleeves so long it reached past his knuckles.

"...Hisoka?" Killua's mind skid to a screeching halt. A sudden burst of recognition hit him and his voice raised several octaves higher with surprise and disbelief. He looked thoroughly disturbed. "What's_ that_ freak doing here!"

"I don't know! I just saw him at the hot springs! It was really..." Gon shuddered. "...scary."

"Damn! _He's_ here, too? First Illumi and now—" Killua paused abruptly and stared at the oversized robe resting haphazardly on Gon's shoulders again. "Why are you wearing his robe?"

"I kinda lost my own robe—but it wasn't my fault, someone took it or something!—and he gave me his," Gon scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

Killua continued to stare at the robe with an unreadable expression on his face. Then all of a sudden, he jumped back. "Ughh! Go take a shower and burn that thing!"

"W-what?"

"You have Hisoka-germs on you," Killua remarked scientifically. He shooed Gon away as if he were a diseased rat. "So use lots of soap. And toss the robe in the fire after you're done."

Gon blinked several times before raising his sleeved-hand to stifle his laughter. Killua was always rather unpredictable and mercurial; he could shift from one mood to another in seconds. That's also one of the qualities that Gon liked best about him.

-o—o—o-

_Tiing!_

Illumi stepped out of the elevator, walking down the decorative hallway with the same expressionless mask on his face. If anyone experienced enough were to read him though, they would know he was plagued with deep, pensive thoughts. He approached his hotel room at the farthest end of the corridor and closed the door behind him. He didn't bother locking it because he knew that in a moment—

"So, how is he? All grown up?" a second figure welcomed himself into the room a minute later, shutting the door and settling himself onto the edge of the bed with casual grace.

"Yes," Illumi replied tonelessly after a moment, never keen with details. "He looks fine, in good condition and health."

The black-haired assassin sat onto a chair in front of the dark-wooded vanity. He made a move to loosen his hair, but Hisoka reached over from his seat and slipped off the leather binding for him. Illumi ran his fingers through his thick tresses, unraveling the braid, pulling through some knots.

"What's the matter?" Hisoka asked as he studied Illumi's expressionless face in the mirror with a knowing, mocking smirk. "Not what you expected?"

"No. He looks as I expected him to. Six years older."

Hisoka sighed, absently playing with the leather binding. "You're no fun, Illu. Well, I ran into Gon. I was able to catch a...rather generous view of him—and from what I've seen, he's grown up _quite _well. I'm not disappointed in the least."

Illumi looked over his shoulder to see lavender eyes glinting with dangerous delight. "Ah. I thought that was your robe. I wish you didn't do that, Hisoka. Now they are aware of both our presences. They may plan to leave and avoid us."

"Always assuming the worst, aren't you. Oh, don't look at me like that. They'll be here tomorrow. I didn't _scare_ him."

Illumi continued to stare at him with unblinking silence.

"Saa, perhaps, maybe I did a little..." Hisoka confessed, though the smirk on his face was not at all regretful.

The assassin let out a barely audible sigh as he continued to groom the tangles out of his hair.

-o—o—o-

Gon woke up to the sight of the white ceiling gazing back at him. Just waking from a nightmare, his heart was beating feverishly. He urgently pushed himself up with his elbows and turned his head, his wide eyes quickly searching. _Killua—_

His eyes locked onto a silver-haired head almost immediately. Gon let out a slow breath as his gaze settled upon the bed adjacent to his own. _He's still here._ Soft sunlight was streaming through the balcony window, settling a pool of pale gold upon Killua's sleeping form. He was slightly curled on his side, facing away from him and toward the window. Gon flopped back down on the bed, his racing pulse gradually slowing down in his ears. _Maa, maa...of course he's still here._

He gazed at the fireplace. The fire had just dwindled beneath the ashen logs and thick ribbons of smoke disappeared into the chimney. He smiled, his eyes knowing and warm. If it wasn't for that fire, he would have been cold throughout the night.

Gon turned his head when he heard a ruffling of cloth. He watched Killua sit up in bed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his pale hand, groaning irritably and cursing the sun. Gon smiled a silent laugh. He liked watching Killua wake up; it was always so funny and fascinating. Funny because Killua (definitely not a morning person) always woke up with the same dark mood everyday. And fascinating because Killua would stretch and yawn in such a graceful, supple way.

Killua sat there for a long moment, gazing out the window, white sheets pooled around his waist. It was a sight of quiet, thoughtful peace. Gon stared unblinkingly. He wondered if it was moments like these that would inspire an artist to start a masterpiece. Sitting there, bathed in the morning light, disheveled platinum hair, porcelain skin reflecting an ethereal glow—

Killua suddenly dove back into the bed with the covers pulled tight over his silver-haired head. He cocooned himself there completely, immobile and silent, as if to hide from the dreadful world.

Gon blinked several times, bemused by such an action that effectively ruined the moment. "Um...Killua?"

"You're awake already?" Killua's muffled voice reached him.

"Yeah...are you okay?"

"No, I feel _really _sick actually. I think I caught a cold."

"...but you never get sick."

"I am today. I think I need to see a doctor."

"...but you don't like doctors."

"I do now. Let's go to Leorio. He'll give us a discount."

"...but he's not in this country. He's not even on this continent."

"I guess that means we'll just have to fly to wherever he is then, won't we?" Killua suddenly sat up, throwing aside the blankets as if struck with a good idea. "Okay, I'll get the plane tickets set up and you pack—we don't have a lot of stuff so we can probably catch an early flight!"

"...Killua."

The addressed hesitantly looked at Gon and found brown eyes gazing at him with a sensible frown that spoke for itself. Killua flopped back into his bed, staring resignedly at the ceiling. "...I know, I know. I'll have to deal with him sooner or later anyway. Might as well get it over with."

"Saa, I bet he just wants to catch up with you. Like you said, there's nothing to worry about, ne? I'm sure Illumi missed you a lot! He is your brother after all," Gon remarked encouragingly, even though he still felt a tight curl of concern twist his stomach.

"Tch. Yeah, even though he's good at being a _manipulative_ _bastard_, maybe..." Killua's expression softened slowly. "...maybe he really just wants to talk," he paused, looking a little more reassured, perhaps even hopeful. However, he sat up and regarded Gon with a serious look. "But you still have to be careful around him, okay? And Hisoka, too. Who knows what that freak will do."

"I know that," Gon rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Killua could be _so_ protective sometimes. He looked at his green-eyed friend with a raised eyebrow. "And you say _I_ worry too much!"

"Hey, I_ have_ to worry about you. You do and say the stupidest things sometimes! It gets you in more trouble than you can handle alone. And by the way, Illumi was about to make you into a pincushion when you barged in yesterday!" Killua retorted pointedly. He sighed tiredly. "I swear, one day..."

-o—o—o-

"I'm leaving now. I won't be back till late afternoon. You have plans with them, don't you." Not a question, but a dry statement.

"Of course! I'm sure Gon's looking forward to our little date today. I'll disappoint him if I don't show up."

"Hm. I know I can't stop you, but I'm asking that you don't do anything regrettable. My brother will be with him—and watching after him, no doubt—so restrain yourself."

"Your lack of faith hurts me, Illu."

"I feel the need to warn you many times over. Killua won't appreciate whatever jokes or games you have planned."

"Heh heh, of course. I'll be on my best behavior." Sweetly said with a pleasant smile, but most definitely a lie.

**E.n.d. o.f. P.a.r.t. T.h.r.e.e.**

* * *

I'm sorry for taking forever to release this chapter! But I was visiting my country during the summer. -sigh- Don't worry. Gremlin (you merciless bastard!) made me pay for my absence. No need to throw any sharp or blunt objects. It's been taken care of. 

Thank you for ALL of your reviews! They really encouraged me to get this story going. I got lots of warm fuzzy feelings and I am entirely grateful to all of you. Thank you again for sticking with this story :cookies for all:

**WARNING:** the next chapter will contain _physical _content. I'll try not to get too carried away, but I may have to up the rating for the kiddies.

Please leave your thoughts!


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